


SCRUBS

by Queenoftheuniverse, VincentMeoblinn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s overtones, Dubious Consent, M/M, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, angry swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/pseuds/Queenoftheuniverse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentMeoblinn/pseuds/VincentMeoblinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft really gets off on being so in control of his sub Greg that he neglects certain steps when introducing his Medical Kink Fetish. John reluctantly helps Mycroft get his filthy hands on Greg during the annual Yard Physical, but it all falls apart when Greg accuses Mycroft of being an Arrogant Sadist. Has Mycroft's own intelligence ruined the very best thing that has ever happened to him? And is Medical Kink too much for Greg to handle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	SCRUBS

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clockworkowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkowl/gifts).



SCRUBS

Mycroft donned a set of scrubs, smirking as he slid a pair of thick spectacles over his aquiline nose. The wig was next, a long blonde one with slight curls at the end. He went to the sink to scrub his hands all the way up to his elbows while John chuckled behind him.

“You know that isn’t necessary. It’s a physical, not a surgery. Also, who or what are you meant to look like?”

“Nondescript,” Mycroft replied.

“You look trans,” John replied with a snort, “You look like a trans person who’s not even trying.”

“I look,” Mycroft scowled, “Like a gender neutral person with blonde hair. Lestrade is not attracted to blondes, and he prefers heavily masculine men. I could have gone fem, but I want him to be able to enjoy this to a certain extent.”

“To a certain extent,” John repeated, his tone threatening. Then he shook his head. "I can't work with you like this. The glasses are fine, but...the hair, no." He ripped the wig off and Mycroft all but gasped. It had been a long time since someone had completely gone against his wishes. Before he could draw breath however, John had passed him a paper hat and a medical mask. 

"These, Mycroft."

Mycrofts nostrils flared, but he did as John said. He slid the green hat on and tucked his hair inside until nothing showed. With the stubble and the mask around his throat for now he looked like a intern and most decidedly not the British Government.

John was staring. It was a piercing stare.

“Relax, John,” Mycroft sighed, “I’ve already told you. This isn’t a hard limit for Gregory. He just isn’t taking it seriously. He thinks it’s a silly kink, but it’s a fetish for me. I won’t fully enjoy our relationship without this.”

John continued to stare at him in silence for several moments and Mycroft had no illusions that if John changed his mind right now he would stop everything in its tracks. John was an exceptional human being; he’d managed to get Sherlock under control long before he’d ever become the man’s official Dom. What the relationship was like between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes behind closed doors was a mystery to Mycroft because John had put the kibosh on surveillance inside the home. He knew there were kneeling pads in the flat from having visited, and he knew they still had separate bedrooms, but whatever else went on was hidden beneath his brother’s long sleeves and closed eyes. Yet Sherlock was happy for the first time in his life, and Mycroft respected the man who could stare the British Government in the face and tell him no without an ounce of fear. He would continue to respect him, even if it meant this adventure was stopped in its tracks. 

“Okay,” John stated with a nod, “Let’s go get you laid.”

“Must you be so crude?” Mycroft scowled, sliding the mask up to his mouth.

"I must."

They walked into the room and Mycroft did his best not to smirk as Gregory’s eyes slid over him, dismissing the ‘intern’, and then settled on John. 

“Okay,” Gregory grinned, “Let’s do this. I’m relying on you to clear me regardless of any freakish illness you may discover.”

“Ha ha,” John rolled his eyes, “I’ll be writing down whatever’s actually wrong, thank you very much. This is Matthew, he will be observing for the most part, but will also be helping out. We’ve got a lot of you coppers to take care of so I need all the help I can get. Matthew?”

‘Matthew’ stepped forward and strapped the blood pressure cuff onto Gregory’s arm. The man didn’t so much as look at him as he pressed the stethoscope to his inner arm. Mycroft did his best not to gasp as he heard the steady sound of his lover’s heartbeat. He pumped the cuff and it intensified, filling his ears the way the man often filled his body. He kept it up so long that John cleared his throat to stop him. Mycroft glanced down to see that Gregory was flexing his fingers uncomfortably, but had still only given him a cursory glance. 

Mycroft removed the sphygmomanometer cuff and slipped his hands into gloves. He envied John as he checked Gregory’s eyes and nose, but at least got a chance to check his ears. They were dirty. He’d have to make sure to get him to clean them later. John nodded as if ‘Matthew’ were doing a good job and Lestrade’s eyes still stayed on the cheerfully chatting doctor Watson who was doing an admirable job distracting him. 

“Urine sample,” John nodded to the loo beside them, “I’m afraid someone has to watch. It’s me or Matthew.”

“Ahhh, strangers over mates,” Lestrade agreed, making extra sure not to look at Matthew now.

Mycroft smirked at John who gave him a disgusted look, rolling his eyes, and then started making notes on his clipboard while Mycroft followed Gregory into the bathroom. He watched the man fill his pot, his arousal waffling back and forth since urine wasn’t his thing but… well, the whole testing aspect was a bit interesting. Finally he screwed the cap on and handed the warm container to Mycroft, who held it lovingly as he followed Gregory out into the exam room again. 

John shook his head at him, but didn’t put a halt to anything. 

“Okay, Greg, you can go behind that curtain and strip down. There’s a gown to put on. Keep the back open.”

“Damn prostate exam,” Gregory muttered, “I hope you have better fingers than the last bloke.”

“How does a gay bottom end up hating prostate exams?” John wondered, grinning at Greg cheekily.

“Oh, do you like them?”

“Power top.” John shrugged.

“Figures. And I'll have you know, I’m versatile. Not a bottom.” Greg said, setting the record straight.

Mycroft did his best not to grin. 

“Besides,” John continued, “We examine the front half first.”

Oh happy days! Mycroft silently crowed.

“Oh shit. Can Matthew do that part, too?”

Does he know? No. He just doesn’t want John touching him. It’s awfully unprofessional and he knows it. John looked pensive.

"Greg, I've seen your penis before."

"Late at night." Greg said. "In an alley. When I fell over taking a piss."

"Drunk off your arse. Who do you think tucked you away?"

"Jesus John!"

John put his hands up.

"I was a gentleman and a professional." He assured Greg. "But yes, Matthew can do the check if you like. But Greg, I WILL have to do the prostate exam. Matthew is not qualified." John stared at Mycroft who got the point, and nodded slightly.

"Thith way" 'Matthew lisped, voice up an octave and softer than Mycroft would ever be. Greg followed meekly, behind the curtained area, leaving John to set out what he need on the paper covered examination bed.

'Matthew' snapped on gloves and pulled up his mask. He motioned for Greg to raise his paper gown and then professionally inspected Greg's impressive nether religions, including holding the mans bollacks and requesting he cough. The fact Greg did not look him in the eye excited Mycroft to the core. Greg was merely a 'thing' and he had to 'let this stuff be done to him' which was the whole thrill of medical kink really. Objectification for you own good. Delicious!

"All finished." 'Matthew' finally said, sliding the gloves off and allowing Greg to drop the gown. "Pleath.." He motioned the Detective Inspector out from the curtain and back to the main examination room. 

"Okay?" John asked Greg, who nodded. 

'Matthew' nodded too.

"Nothing wrong" he lisped to the doctor.

"Okay mate, assume the position." John grinned then, patting the paper covered exam bed and bidding Greg lie over it. He snapped on gloves as Greg did as he was told, and Mycoft swallowed.

"This won't hurt but it will feel uncomfortable" John said then, and Greg nodded, gripping the side of the bed and parting his legs. John squeezed medical grade lube on his fingers, lifted the gown and began the examination.

He managed, just, not to jump when Mycroft slid in behind him, cosied up to Johns back and running his hand down Johns examining arm to stop just short of the probing finger. He held tight, thrilled at the strain and knot and turn of ropes of muscles along Johns forearm. John had his finger deep inside his Gregory and it was so exciting his breathing hitched into Johns neck.

John subtlety pushed Mycroft off with a shove of his arse, slid out his finger and removed the gloves.

"Perfect Greg. I'll just take some blood and we will be finished."

"Okay mate." Greg huffed, standing and stretching, shaking out his tense muscles. John waved him to a paper cover chair and Greg sat, a little gingerly.

John sat on a small wheeled stool and slid over, motioning for 'Matthew' to hand him the cloth covered plastic kidney bowl. 'Matthew' did so, placing it on the stainless steel table beside the chair. 

"Christ I hate needles." Greg said, when the contents of the dish were revealed.

"The pain?" John asked, sliding a lanyard up Gregs arm and tightening it.

"The intrusion." Greg said, and Mycroft felt his scrubs go tight. Just the thought of a shiny, impersonal, intrusive instrument piercing Greg's skin and sliding in...it was all he could do to not moan out loud. The bulge of Greg's juicy vein held his eyes and when John finally slid the needle home Mycroft forgot to breathe.

John filled two vials with Greg's beautiful ruby red blood then quickly pulled out the needle. He pressed a cotton ball into the hole left behind and then stuck a plaster over it.

"All done, you can get dressed." John said then, motioning Mycroft to the side to write on the vials and put them into a rack.

"Okay."

John busied himself with cleaning the room as Greg redressed behind the screen. When he emerged he was smiling.

"Thanks mate."

"You'll get the results in two days."

They shook hands, Greg nodded to 'Matthew', and then he left.

The second he was gone John whirled to Mycroft, and began stabbing at the mans chest with his pointy finger.

"If you EVER do that again Mycroft Holmes I will punch you in the neck. Not only did you compromise me professionality, you nearly ruined my relationship with a very good friend."

"Oh really John-" Mycroft protested, taking the mask down and then frowning at Johns continued triad.

"Go home and tell him. Tell him PROPERLY how much this means to you. Make him understand..and if he doesn't then Let.It.Go!" John hissed. "You don't think you will have a satisfactory love life without this? Your loss if Greg says no and you wander off into the sunset. That man is the most loyal, stalwart, beautiful, NICE man you will EVER meet and I simply cannot believe a man as clever as you are willing to risk it just to get your fetish met! Now....get out. Get out of my surgery." 

"John...nevertheless I wish to thank you--"

"Save it! I have no idea why I said yes to this in the first place. I think I am probably completely and utterly mad."

Mycroft paused, then realised there was nothing to say. 

Because John was right. About everything. And now Mycroft had to do the most diplomatic thing in his life and explain his...FEELINGS to his one and only. 

"I....still..." He said to Johns angry back as he cleaned the stainless steel table. "I still thank you..."

"Go." John said.

Mycroft stepped out, changed his clothes and left the surgery, his face a closed mask of resignation.

#

When Mycroft finally got back to the apartment that he and Greg shared, he found Greg leaning against the kitchen counter, tie loosed, and a glass of whiskey in his hand. His arms were crossed over himself and his legs were also crossed at the ankle. He looked...

He looked angry.

"Gregory?"

"Mycroft." He nodded.

"I see you found the nineteen fourty-"

"Shut it." Greg snapped, slamming the drink on the counter. 

"Gregor--"

"No!" Greg snapped, rubbing his hand through his silver hair. "Jesus you are a piece of work."

"I assure you Gregory, I have no idea--" but he did. He did and he began to panic..

"I know you and your snotty brother are the cleverest people in the whole world, but other people have SOME brains you...upper class wanker, I am a DETECTIVE....INSPECTOR!"

"You knew it was me." Mycroft said, his voice not much above a whisper. 

"Christ Mycroft, you could wear a blond wig and I would know it was you." Greg spat. "Your SMELL, you great fucking idiot. Your EYES you complete twat! The fact that I have mapped every part of you with my hands, my eyes, my mouth you great fucking pillock!!

Greg's face was a livid red now, eyes gone almost black with fury. Mycroft found himself pinned to the spot, to stunned to even back away.

"I know you!" Greg went on. "I know you so well! You can't disguise yourself! But you didn't even try very hard, did you, you arsehole? You thought I would fall for it because I am just a stupid copper, one of the goldfish masses you rise oh so far above in your ivory fucking tower!"

Mycroft could say nothing, because Gregory was right, curse him. He had never underestimated anyone more than his Greg right at this moment. With John he had come close of course. He took comfort in the fact that he and his brother had chosen extraordinary men to love, but right now the comfort was being infiltrated by the cold tendril of fear. Had he ruined this?

"I tried to tell you Gregory." He said, voice low.

"You told me a list. A LIST My!!" Greg shouted. "When we first got together, when we were doing kink negotiation. You slid Medical Kink between leather cuffs and bare hand spanking!" 

"Nevertheless, it was there Gregory."

"Agreed, My, AGREED, but you...you..." Greg grabbed his fringe and fisted it. "Remember when I said I wanted to be your cat sometimes, I loved the idea of curling in your lap, the collar, the bowls, the catnip toys and the brushing and the petting..I TOLD you ALL that, I TOLD you it thrilled me, but I also said if it was something you didn't want to do then we would not because I wanted you to be comfortable with our kinky life."

Mycroft nodded.

"And have I EVER been your cat?" Greg went on, letting his fringe go and dropping his arms.

"No Gregory, pet play is not something I like."

Greg paused. It was a pregnant pause. Mycroft flickered his eyes over Greg's face. What was Greg telling him, there was something....something...

"Mycroft....do I like Medical Play?" His beautiful sub finally asked, voice low and raspy with emotion.

Mycroft opened his mouth. Then found he had nothing to say. Because in all honesty he had no idea. Because...

"Oh my Gregory...oh my Gregory I am so sorry.." He finally said huskily, over the lump forming in his throat. For some reason his eyes went blurry and began to sting. He was shocked to feel himself begin to cry. Honestly. The British Government didn't cry! "I never asked you..."

"You never asked me." Greg said then, all anger gone. He watched Mycrofts face but could not cross to take the man in his arms. The arrogant arrogant twat deserved to feel this bad, deserved to suffer a little in punishment for his total and utter arrogance.

"I'm not like any other man in any circle you have ever had My." Greg said, in a low voice. "I am not stupid. I am not yours to manipulate. I deserve your respect because I belong to you. I gave myself to you and I have the brand on my shoulder blade to prove it. I chose to let you put it there because I love you and I need you."

He took a shuddering breath.

"But you need me too. Honestly, My, I was so close to walking..." Greg punched his finger and thumb together in front of his face.

Mycroft gasped in horror.

"So close My because this...MAKING me subject myself to your kink without my permission, without my knowing, it's beyond disrespectful. It is disgusting. It is the work of a sadist. Not my loving Dom. Not my beautiful Mycroft."

Mycroft fell against the back of the sofa opposite the kitchen, knees no longer able to hold him up. 

"Oh my Gregory--" was all he could whisper.

"And to drag John into it...you lied to him too didn't you?"

Mycroft could only nod, swallowing and staring at the tiles at Gregory's feet.

"Jesus My...." Greg whispered in disapointment.

"I'm...a foolish foolish man." Mycroft said. "And I am most eternally sorry..."

There was silence. It dragged on. Mycroft was tortured and sad and genuinely terrifically sorry for his stupidity. Would Greg walk anyway? Did he know how genuinely and tortuously sorry his Dom was? Could it ever be okay?

Then Greg said:

"Did you like me?"

"Gregory?" Mycroft looked up, questioningly, into the slightly smirking eyes of his lover.

Greg stepped forward, sliding his hands onto Myrofts suited body, where his belt circled his skinny hips, and pressed his mouth up into Mycrofts ear.

"Did you like me half naked and helpless at Dr Watson's whim...Sir...?"

And Mycroft could not stop the dark and dangerous moan that burst from his lips.

#

That Greg was willing to try Medical Kink after the shocking series of mistakes he had made was a blessing to Mycroft Holmes. It only went to show what a wonderful man he had under his hands and in his life. That he went even further and wanted to add role play into the fun proved once again that Gregory Lestrade was the most perfect man in the whole of the world.

So Greg sat on a chair in their bedroom in just his white tight T-shirt and snug grey Merle boyleg pants, hands under his thighs and legs swinging. He looked around the room as if waiting and hummed.

"Mister Lestrade?" 

Greg looked up and barely contained a gasp. Mycroft had on a white coat with a name tag (Doctor M.Holmes) and a stethoscope looped around his neck. He put out his hand.

"I'm Doctor Holmes. Full check up?"

Greg shook the doctors hand and nodded.

"Yes. For work. Gotta clear myself for active duty."

"Has it been twelve months since your last one?" 

"Yes, Doctor, it has."

"Anything troubling you?"

"My Super thinks I am hypertensive but I don't even know what that means. Is it bad?" He used eyebrows in an very sweet, innocent, but way, looking a bit pensive and worried. He even bit his lower lip. Tart.

"It means high blood pressure. Let me check that first." Doctor Holmes said. "Sit up on the exam bench please."

The "bench" was their King Sized four poster bed. Greg hopped up obediently and sat up straight, thighs just a bit too far apart to be a nice boy.

Dr Holmes got out his blood pressure machine (eBay, €40) and slid the cuff over Greg's bicep. He puffed it up (not too far, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing after all) and then put the stethoscope in his ears, pressed the cup to Greg's inner arm and listened.

Thump a thump a thump a...nice and strong and...there, it tripped a bit, increasing speed. Dr Holmes scrutinised the numbers on the machine as if he knew what they meant, and he could see Greg shift on the bed. All Mycroft could see under the edge of the T-shirt was Greg's grey cotton clad balls but they were big and full and just so tempting.

Dr Holmes removed the stethoscope, looped back over his neck and deflated the cuff. He slid it down off Greg's arm.

"That's well within normal limits."

"Oh, well, that's good then, yeah?"

"I'll need to run a few more tests."

Greg bit his bottom lip again, and did the wide eyed under-the-fringe thing he knew drove Mycroft to distraction.

"Of course Doctor." he breathed, making Mycroft have to turn back to his tray of instruments quickly. He rattled a bit and then brought out the lighted instrument for looking in tight things, and a tongue depressor. Again, eBay. He shopped a lot on eBay.

"Open your mouth Mister Lestrade." Dr Holmes said, voice soft and deep.

"Yes Doctor." Greg answered in his boyish tone, parting his lips softly and dating his tongue out. Mycroft managed to not moan as he pressed the wooden stick flat to Gregs tongue and turned the light on. He peered through it.

"Say ah please Mister Lestrade."

Greg choked out a sound that was no more an "ah" than a meerkat could fly. In fact, it sound more like "oh yes" and Mycroft felt a stirring in his pants. Greg was sat perfectly still, hands back under his thighs, back curved to make his chest thrust out in that tight shirt, eyes closed, lips so wet and pink and parted, tongue out. Like begging for a treat. Mycroft bit his own tongue and briskly removed the stick.

"Perfect." He said, voice surprisingly steady. He tossed the stick and then looked in both of Greg's ears. Still dirty but he tilted his head so pretty that Mycroft ignored the state to watch the pulse under Greg's ear beat. It was faster, Mycroft could see.

"Very nice." Dr Holmes said, switching the light off and putting the instrument down. "Tilt your head back please."

"Yes Doctor.." Greg said softly, and lifted his chin. Mycroft gently felt along Greg's jaw, pretending to check his glands but in reality just feeling the soft and tender skin of Greg's throat. Then, under the guise of looking into Greg's eyes, he left his hand over Greg's throat. Lightly. But with a subtle threat of strangulation. And breath play was one of Greg's main kinks. Mycroft knew that and was thrilled to see Greg's pupils get wider.

"Eyes look fine." Dr Holmes commented.

Greg swallowed and Mycroft's hand bobbed. Oh that was nice.

Then Dr Holmes stood back, looped the stethoscope back into his ears, and slid the cup under Greg's shirt. Greg shivered and Mycroft pretended to frown while listening to Greg's heart. It was perfectly strong but much faster now. Greg whimpered and it sounded wonderful through the tube of the stethoscope.

Mycroft changed the position of the cup and, in doing so, brushed it softly over Greg's nipple. Dr Holmes heard the hard scrape of the puckered peak drag over the end of the scope and he almost grinned. Greg moaned and closed his eyes and Mycroft's cock filled even more. He repeated the movement with the other nipple, circling it several times until Greg made a very tasty sound indeed.

Dr Holmes put the scope on the tray.

"Your heart is perfect Mister Lestrade." He said and Greg stared up at him, damn teeth in that bottom lip again. "Lean back onto your elbows please."

Greg slid his arms back on the bed and lowered himself to his elbows, 'accidently' spreading his creamy thighs apart. He kept his dark eyes on Dr Holmes, and never let his lip go. 

Dr Holmes stared at the wall above Greg's head and suddenly cupped Greg's big, full balls. Greg gasped and arched a little but it was as if Dr Holmes didn't even notice. He moved his hand efficiently over the mans bollocks, squeezing and rolling them in one hand, rubbing his thumb over the roundness and then holding them firmly.

"Cough."

Greg tried but all he could do was moan.

"Perfect." Dr Holmes said, looking down at Greg with a small smile before looking back at the wall. Then he moved his hand from Greg's balls and up the long, hard length of his cotton-clad cock. Greg whimpered and arched his cock up into Dr Holmes hand, thighs parting more. His head dropped back, his eyes closed and his lips were finally free of his teeth, parted and pink and wet as he panted slightly.

Dr Holmes caressed and rubbed Greg's cock, nodding and looking very professional as he all but tossed the boy off. He squeesed the wet head, rubbed his thumb over the head and roughly stroked the whole length.

"Doctor--" Greg moaned, and Mycroft dropped Greg's cock.

"No problems there Mister Lestrade."

"Are you--" Greg swallowed. "Are you sure...?"

Dr Holmes lifted and eyebrow.

"Quite."

He then slid Greg's shirt up to under his armpits with both hands. Greg looked so wanton with his legs apart, cock hard in his pants, a wet spot forming, chest exposed and T-shirt rumpled to his neck, eyes hot on Mycrofts face.

Dr Holmes used both hands to run over Greg's ribs, and belly, and hips. Softly. Greg wiggled a bit. It was so teasy! Too much and not enough. Mycroft knew what he was doing and affected a professional face, still staring at the wall above Greg's head. He had some idea as to how much treating Greg like a 'thing' rather than a person got the man hot and bothered. And so so hard.

So when Dr Holmes took both Greg's nipples in his fingers and rolled them the poor boy moaned and shivered and dropped his head back, exposing his throat and arching his back.

"Doctor...that hurts.." He whispered, eyes fluttering.

"Yes, it may feel a bit uncomfortable." Dr Holmes said, rolling the nubs harder but still looking at the wall.

"Oh..that really stings..." Greg moaned, arching into the fingers and practically begging Dr Holmes to hurt him more. Dr Holmes did, of course, making those nipples plump up with a rush of stinging blood, making Greg moan and his hips to rut in the air.

Dr Holmes caved and looked down. His breath died in his lungs and he bit back a moan. He could hardly believe that this writhing, moaning, wet-mouthed creature was his!

He finally let the nipples go, entranced at the redness of them. Mycroft wanted to lave them with his tongue and sooth them with his lips but instead he pushed Greg down flat on the bed. 

"Thighs apart Mister Lestrade." He ordered.

"Yes Doctor." Greg said, putting his hands either side of his head in surrender and parting his legs even further. He licked his lips and looked at Dr Holmes coyly through his fringe again.

Mycroft swallowed slowly and tore his gaze away from his beautiful boy. He snapped on neoprene gloves, lubed up one hand and turned back to his writhing boy.

"How long since your last Prostate Exam?" He asked, his voice surprisingly together because his cock certainly wasn't.

"Last year." Greg said quietly, wiggling his arse on the bed in excitement.

"Normal?"

"Very." Greg said, biting his lip on the V.

Dr Holmes nodded.

"Move you bottom to the edge of the bed please."

Greg obliged.

Dr Holmes slid the pants across Greg's balls with his non-lubed hand, and then, with his lubed hand, slid his middle finger deep into Greg's arsehole. Greg gasped, arched up, and rolled his eyes closed.

"Not too uncomfortable Mister Leatrade?" Dr Holmes asked, sliding his finger in an out in a decidedly non-medical way. 

"Uh...no...Doctor..."

"Doesn't hurt?"

"No Doctor." He sighed. "It feels wonderful."

Mycroft choked off a moan and then curled his finger forward, finding Greg's prostate and making the man arch again.

"Christ!" Greg exclaimed, curling his hips up. "Oh Doctor, right there, please..please?"

Dr Holmes rubbed that bundle of nerves again.

"There, Mister Lestrade?"

"Yes yes yes please..." Greg begged, eyes still closed, palms opening and closing in spasms, hips grinding up into the air and back on Mycrofts finger.

"Still yourself Mister Lestrade, if you would."

Greg groaned and stopped moving. Mycroft managed to slide another finger in and Greg loved it. 

"Ohhhh yes Doctor...." He moaned, and resumed rutting himself on Mycrofts hand. The wet patch on his pants got bigger and his cock throbbed with every brush against his prostate. Mycroft adored looking down on his wanton little slut, half dressed with fingers deep inside inside, nipples red and peaked, heart pounding in his neck.

Mycroft removed his fingers and took off the gloves. Greg whimpered.

"Please Doctor, I am sure--"

"Do be quiet, Mister Lestrade." Dr Holmes insisted, reaching under his white coat, popping buttons and unzipping his trousers. He pulled out his hard cock, undid his coat for easy movement, and stepped between Greg's thighs.

"I just need to--" he said, but then words failed him because he had moved the pants aside again and Greg's wet hole beckoned. He put the blunt end of his huge cock into Greg and began to push.

Greg mewled, snapping his eyes open but seeing nothing. Mycroft was big, thick and long, with a bulbous head that hit Greg in all the rightist deepest parts of him. He loved the full, invading feeling of his Dom's cock piercing him, sliding home.

Dr Holmes curled Greg's hips up, and then took hold of his wrists and pinned him beneath him. He began to circle his hips, forcing his cock to slide in and out of his boy. Greg groaned, letting his legs flop wide, his knees falling forward, opening his wet hole for his Dom's use.

Mycroft suddenly rammed his cock deep inside a moaning a writhing Greg, grunting like an animal as he worked his steel-hard prick home. Wet tight heat around his fat cock had Mycrofts eyes rolling, and the sweetness of boy under him had his teeth grinding in pleasure and pressure.

"Oh God Mycroft, oh God, oh God, you are so perfect, that's perfect fuck right there..... Oh...right...fucking...THERE!!!"

"Greg...my Greg..so tight and hot...open for me...my cock inside you, dirty boy.." Mycroft hissed, vision blurring as heat curled at his spine.

"Mycroft..I'm..." Greg choked, arching again, wrists writhing under Mycrofts grip. "Mycroft..please...I'm..."

Mycroft growled and shoved his cock deeper inside his sub. It was a mete three brutal thrusts later that he came, screaming Greg's name. Greg lost control of his own orgasm then and his come erupted between them, shooting onto the air in long white ribbons. He was trying to say Mycrofts name but all he could do was choke on his own breath as his vision went white. 

Mycroft fell onto Greg as his orgasm faded, his breathing harsh, his heart pounding in his neck. Greg matched his breathing and blissed out on aftershocks.

"Well....Mister Lestrade..." Dr Holmes gasped. "I pronounce you....fit for work..."

Greg huffed a laugh and kissed Mycrofts head.

"Give me an hour, I'm fucked out." He said, and smiled happily at the feel of his Dom laughing against him, sticky and warm.

"So I guess that's a 'yes' for Medical Kink then?" Mycroft stated.

"Yes Doctor." Greg said and was rewarded with a other lovely jiggly laugh against his stomach.

#


End file.
